


As the sun will rise

by OpheliaPending



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Pining, and other good stuff, confession of love, set after 3x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 14:02:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaPending/pseuds/OpheliaPending
Summary: Set after 3x09 - anne trying to deal with her feelings for gilbert
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 234





	As the sun will rise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story for this fandom so please be kind :)

A tragical romance. Was that not what she had always dreamed of? To be swept away in a sea of love not caring if she inevitably drowned. The reality, however, was more… so much more… heartbreaking. Soul crushing. Devastating. No matter the word or phrase the implication couldn’t quite near the complete and utter loss she felt. The wind whipped through her vibrant red strands, making a mess of her already untangling braids. She stood at the edge of the cliff and breathed in the sea air. The tranquil sound of the waves did nothing to sooth her uneasy heart.

Gilbert had received her letter and decided to leave anyway – thwarting any opportunity for conversational closure. Her chance was gone. The next she saw him, he would be engaged. Engaged to someone who was not her. Someone who was beautiful. Someone with prospect. Someone who could give Gilbert all that which he desired.

Her teeth sunk down on her bottom lip in an attempt to quiet the trembling. Was she a fool for believing it possible that Gilbert would look at her in that way? Or was she too late in the realisation of her feelings? Her eyes stung as her vision blurred. The vast ocean before her, wisps of pink seamlessly blending with the darkening blue of dusk, each colour bleak to match her mood. The day had been all too cruel for her liking. Her heart was strained at all the directions it had been pulled and she wanted very much to stand there for the rest of the night. But alas, it was getting late and she needed to go home.

Her legs like quicksand, she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the depths of despair. The only thought pushing her through was the worry of poor Marilla and Matthew should she miss dinner.

The night was melancholic. Her dinner tasted of sorrow and emptiness when she could manage to swallow it. Anne was glad that Marilla didn’t push the conversation, leaving her to nurse what was left of her broken heart until should the time be that she wanted comfort.

As she lay in bed, darkness enshrouding her surroundings, only the distant rays of the moon to keep her company, her mind could not settle. She went to the window to let in a breeze. The fresh air provided temporarily relief but it was still too stuffy. The blood rushed to her face as she paced around her room. She knew she loved Gilbert but with him gone, where were these feelings to go? Would they gradually fade with time? Or would they linger… and taunt her with everything that could’ve been her life? Oh no. She couldn’t have that. Anne panted, suddenly needing more air than the window provided. She tiptoed out of her room, only in her nightdress with hair wild and unruly, and panicked when her foot stepped down at just the wrong angle and a loud creak echoed through the otherwise quiet house. She froze, stopping even her breathing. Oh, please don’t let her be caught. After a good few seconds and not a stir in the house, she continued out the door.

She walked all around, under the cover of night – the light of the moon giving the most wonderous glow to the surrounding foliage, like creatures of the night blooming to life. She was exploring unknown land – a crafty and boisterous wanderer, off to discover the delectable secrets of the world. It was a welcome distraction until Anne found herself back at the cliff, staring off into the glimmering ocean. Maybe it was a pirate’s life for her? A flash of Gilberts face at the ruins stopped her imagining in its tracks. She spread her arms as wide as they could go and let the wind dance between her fingertips and through her hair.

She collapsed backwards onto the ground, spread out like a sea star. Her heart broke for Ka’kwet, the only solace coming from her belief that she would not stop until her friend had been returned home safe and sound. She let out a tear or two, but quickly wiped them away.

Anne looked up to the stars decorating the sky – a truly mystifying thing it was. She wondered if the stars knew just how beautiful they were. Her hand reached upwards and traced through the constellations. In that moment she felt so small. So small and insignificant. As if her worries were but leaves fallen into a flowing river and drifting out to sea.

The moment was nice. Serene even. Until the stars shined a certain way and it reminded her of the vast depth of grey of his eyes. Her face flushed. Everything came back to Gilbert. Anne intertwined her fingers in the long grass absentmindedly as she let her mind ponder the what-ifs.

What if she had confessed the night of the exam? What if he had read her note and decided to stay? What if he had also chosen her? What if he truly, deeply, impossibly loved her? Her heart squeezed at the thought only to be stabbed at the overbearing truth that was his pending engagement. Surely by now the proposal had already happened. He was happily engaged, with his whole future ahead of him and she was… well she was lying in the knee length grass, dirt covering her nightdress, and the red of her hair capturing the light of the moon. Her life she supposed, was romantical; an unrequited love that consumed her every waking moment was second only to reciprocated affection. Maybe this was as good as she was going to get.

She’d never thought how much it would hurt. Tragical indeed. The grass rustled in a gust of wind that overcame the cliffside. Her finger traced circles in the dirt before a shadow cast over her face and down her body, and a heavy weight squashed her hand.

“Ow!” she yelled and tried to yank her hand back, which was only possible once the weight removed itself.

“Oh! Sorry!” an all too familiar voice called back. “I wasn’t expecting there to be anyone… here… Anne?”

Her breath hitched as she sat up straight, tilting her head back until she saw the face leaning over her, “Gilbert?”

She scrambled to her feet, heart beating a mile a minute, “What are you doing here?” Why was he always there when she looked her worst?

“I was about ask you the same thing,” he looked over her being and upon realising she was in her nightdress, whipped his head to the side, a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

She hesitated, “Come to celebrate your,” she swallowed dryly, “New engagement, or did you just want to show off?” Her tongue was sharp – sharper than intended and she recoiled at the impending answer.

Her comment cut him to the core but he softened at the inherent jealousy. Maybe he still had a chance? “I didn’t go through with it,” he said, voice cracking.

Her face lit up. What did he just say? He didn’t ask her? But that didn’t make any sense. Her eyes darted back and forth trying to perceive any possible notion that this was in fact the truth.

A frog had been caught in her throat, “W-Why would you…”

“I didn’t do it for you,” he said and clenched is jaw.

“I never said you did,” she shot back fiercely. Why did she say that? Her mind was screaming at her.

Gilberts eyebrows pushed together, “I did it for myself. It wasn’t fair to Winifred and it wasn’t fair to me. I truly believe that one day I will make it to Sorbonne, but by my own merit, in my own time. Marriage… it shouldn’t be an exchange of things. Or prospects. It should be about love.”

“Love…” Anne mimicked, eyes now locked onto his, staring a hole right through his soul. She hung on his every word. 

“It should be about… _mutual_ love,” he said softly, averting his gaze to the sea brightening with daybreak.

The way his lips pushed together and accentuated the _m_ sent shivers down her spine and butterflies rampaging through her stomach.

“Mutual love…” Anne repeated, too lost in him to form a coherent reply.

Gilbert took one step forward and Anne fought off every instinct to take one step back. He drew closer and closer, until he was only a breath apart and took her hand in his.

“I know this may be forward, I’ve realised that I need to be so when it comes to you, I will wait for you. For you to hold me as dearly as I hold you. For there is nothing on this earth that I could imagine comes close to my love for you.” His grip tightened around her fingers, just enough so to stop his hands from trembling at baring his soul to her.

She was awestruck, “You… Love – You love… me…?” Anne couldn’t quite believe the words coming out of her mouth. Or his mouth. Was this all an elaborate dream crafted by her unsettled mind? Because it was almost too wonderful to believe.

He smiled at her with the light of a thousand suns, the sun peaking from behind his shoulder, only emphasising his otherworldliness. This had to be a dream. She wanted to pinch herself but her hands were already entangled with his.

“I’m in love with you, Anne Shirley Cuthbert. L-O-V-E. Love,” he longingly stared at her, quite unbelieving that such a girl could ever exist, “I always have been.”

Her bottom lip quivered with an electrifying force as a smile crept up on her. Everything felt glorious. The surrounding colours more vibrant than ever with so much scope for the imagination. She paused, her face falling, “Then why did you leave? After my note, I could’ve sworn –”

“What note?” he said cocking his head to the side, puzzled.

“The one I left for you on your kitchen table.”

“I didn’t see a note… What did it –”

“I love you,” she blurted, unable to hold it in any longer; her feelings too large and too swollen to ever be contained. She said it directly, now there was no chance of miscommunication.

His grip loosened around her hands, as if he almost couldn’t fathom her confession. He blinked once, twice, thrice. Could he let himself believe?

He whispered softly, air caught in his throat, “What?”

She squeezed his hand, “I love you Gilbert Blythe. L-O-V-E.”

Tears brimmed her eyes and her heart was soaring. The sun skimmed through the clouds, the lining no longer silver but an arresting streak of fire illuminating the sky. She shuffled towards him until their bodies were pressed together. He looked into her eyes with such love she almost melted right before him.

Their faces inched closer, only a hairs width between their mouths. His bottom lip grazed hers and she pulled back abruptly, “O-oh! My pen! You still have my pen!”

Gilbert chuckled through his confusion, “What?”

“My pen. You borrowed it and never gave it back,” she tried to conceal her embarrassment through a stubborn glare.

Gilbert continued to laugh, never a dull moment with Anne, and reached into his bag, “This one?”

“Yes,” she reached out and took her pen, placing it to her lips in a soft kiss, “Thank goodness. The pen of possibility.”

“You named your pen?” he teased.

“Of course. How else will it be endowed with the magic to bring my words to fruition.”

He wove his hands around her waist, interlocking his fingers and guided her body back towards his, “I love you.”

He placed his lips onto hers and her mind went blank, the world fading around them, and dropped the pen by her feet.


End file.
